


Secrets

by rightonthelimit



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal, Dirty Talk, Fingering, M/M, Masturbation, Sexual Content, Spanking, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2014-02-03
Packaged: 2018-01-11 01:56:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1167247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rightonthelimit/pseuds/rightonthelimit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Tom saw him he hardly took notice of the boy and looking back on it, that was rather silly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secrets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ladyoflilacs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyoflilacs/gifts).



> As commissioned by the lovely ladyoflilacs and proofread by GrrHatLet. Thank you for your endless patience and kindness! I'm kind of having a fever and I feel like Hagrid took a huge shit on me, so I hope there's not too many mistakes in this >.

****A/N:**** As commissioned by the lovely ladyoflilacs and proofread by GrrHatLet. Thank you for your endless patience and kindness! I'm kind of having a fever and I feel like Hagrid took a huge shit on me, so I hope there's not too many mistakes in this >.< I edited this over 5 times, lmao.

****Please do not repost, recreate or translate.** **

**Summary:** The first time Tom saw him he hardly took notice of the boy and looking back on it, that was rather silly.

**Warnings:** Sexual content; rough sex, dirty talk, implied time travel, semi—public sex, spanking, masturbation, mentions of oral

 **Secrets**  
_'Oh, got no reason, got no shame_  
_Got no family I can blame_  
_Just don't let me disappear_  
_I'm gonna tell you everything_ '

The first time Tom saw him he hardly took notice of the boy and looking back on it, that was rather silly.

Tom _should_ have noticed the boy named Harry Potter that first time, though he would only find out later what Harry truly meant to him. To his defense - Tom had grown accostumed to the odd customers that had the habit of sauntering into Borgin and Burkes. From people who were rather important political figures to poor schoolboys, they had all come and done business with mister Borgin discreetly, and had left. So really if you think about it, then it wasn't that Tom had grown unaware of his surroundings – it was just that the unexpected had become the expected and somehow along the line, the expected had become the unexpected.

For example, Tom would have actually been more suspicious if a hunched over, cliché Dark witch or wizard would have stepped into the store that day.

It hadn't been that case however - it had just been Harry. Harry had walked into the store with an air of confidence, dressed in black slacks, a blue shirt and a scowl on his face and whilst Tom had been busy rearranging items on the dusty shelves, Harry had pretended to browse the store. He had really just stared at Tom the entire time.

Being subtle had never been any of our beloved hero's signature traits.

Tom _had_ noticed the staring ( _Merlin's beard, Tom was far from stupid or ignorant!_ ) but this too was something he had grown accostumed to. He had a face he did not particularly care for as it was his father's face, but others did. Fellow students at Hogwarts, had. People on the streets always did and the vile handful of people who gladly kissed Tom's ass in the hopes of getting in Tom's pants, definitely did.

Infatuation was fairly innocent, but possibly dangerous when it would turn into obsession and therefore Tom never turned his back to the boy out of sheer precaution. Harry had never made any moves, he had calmly walked around the store, putting up a great show of being interested in anything but Tom. It was rather juvenile, in Tom's opinion.

Annoyed albeit fruitlessly on guard, when the boy had left without a word, Tom had simply thought that the boy had been enthralled with Tom's appearance as many before him had. A part of Harry shamefully had, but it hadn't been the reason why he had come.

Tom was simply too engrossed in the dark artifacts he was surrounded with and the things he could learn from them to give the boy's presence any more thought, even as he left without purchasing anything or asking Tom if he had a certain item in stock. Tom might've been a mere clerk at Borgin and Burkes with a very slim amount of money in his vault at Gringotts, but he was patient and calculating, his every move thought through. His mind was already in the future, where he lived under a name more interesting, darker than the one he currently answered to.

At that moment, when the bell chimed above the door, Tom didn't know yet that the boy's mind was on who Tom would be in the future, too.

* * *

That evening, Tom took off his coat and unwrapped his scarf from his neck as he stepped into his small apartment located above a local pub. The music, loud voices and the occassional sound of laughter drummed though the pub's ceiling, through Tom's creaky wooden floorboards, into Tom's eardrums and never failed to induce endless frustration in Tom's entire being.

The paint was chipping off the walls and there were books stacked up until the ceiling, taking up a lot of space. Tom had never bothered to decorate the place or to even make it appear less terrible at that. He had more important things on his mind, and this place had never been a home to him. It shouldn't be where he rested his head every night in the first place.

But Tom knew that in a short time, if he carried out his plans like he intended to, he'd be surrounded with more riches than anyone could ever dream of. Those garish curtains filled with holes would be replaced by lush black drapes, the wooden floorboards he stood upon would turn into polished marble tiles and eventually, his thin cotton clothes would become silk robes.

Tom sat on his bed and pondered on this longer. His future was planned out step by step and there was no room for failure. Tom did not have a back up plan either – he was confident that he would manage just fine.

If people sincerely thought that Hogwarts' most succesful, intelligent student would settle for a life serving others, they had another thing coming.

Tom smiled to himself and gazed at his hands, admiring them for their strength and the things he had done with them, and the amazing things he would do with them soon enough. His name wouldn't just become history – it would change the future too.

When he fell asleep he didn't think about the raven-haired boy at all.

* * *

The second time the boy named Harry walked in on another school day, Tom did pay attention to him.

The bell above the door chimed and Tom glanced up from the book he'd been flipping through, his chin in hand as the boy walked towards him with a determined look in his green, _green_ eyes. Tom had not cared to truly look into those eyes before but they were giving a lot away and suddenly, Tom's posture straightened out.

The boy's eyes were Avada Kedavra colored eyes. They were eyes that belonged to someone who had lost those who were dear to him, possibly even more, but above all – they were eyes that belonged to someone who had more knowledge than others would give him credit for. Tom knew those eyes like no other because they were the very eyes staring back at him whenever he looked into the mirror.

'Tom Riddle?' the boy asked tactlessly and Tom's eyebrow cocked up, the heavy book closing with a soft thump after a flick of his hand. He sized the boy up, surprised but above all, alert. He did not look strong – he was shorter than Tom, had a rather young face, definitely shouldn't even be wandering Nocturn Alley to begin with - but looks could deceive. Tom had looked the exact same way when he had made his first Horcrux.

If anyone would be an expert on deceit it should be Tom.

Putting on his most charming smile, he watched as the boy faltered in his confident stride, the corners of the boy's lips twitching downwards in a rather interesting motion. Tom sensed this boy hated him, but he did not know why just yet. He used to be the school's Prefect, he should know everyone who had attended Hogwarts the past years and he most definitely knew those who had potential.

Why wasn't this boy at school and most importantly – why didn't Tom know his name?

'How may I help you, sir?' Tom asked in a tone that always swayed everyone, but not Harry. It intrigued Tom beyond measure. The boy's lips moved, the corners of his mouth twitched again but then it was almost as if the boy decided something. He wasn't allowing the eye contact to linger long enough for Tom to use Legilimency on him.

Then, Harry nodded.

'Just checking,' he seemed to force himself to say. He walked out and the bell above the door chimed again. Tom frowned and almost on reflex, checked for his wand to see if it is still there. In this moment, Tom had settled that the boy was someone who he needed to figure out as soon as possible.

* * *

After this odd encounter, Tom became more aware of the customers that came in and left the store.

Nocturn Alley has always had its strange folks wandering around and if you didn't stand firmly in your own shoes, well, then you best be ready to be knocked right out of them. The Ministry wasn't aware of this but Nocturn Alley was where all the dark wizards and witches gathered at night and it was where Tom was rapidly expanding his little army.

Tom watched the Purebloods that entered and left the store, he looked at the single witches and wizards who were unkind but clear with their intentions, greeted a Mudblood or two. They all had one thing in common - however much they might stare at Tom, they always clarified what they were looking for. The boy had not.

Therefore Tom thought the boy could be two things, and a customer was not one of them.

He could either be an exceedingly powerful wizard and therefore someone who Tom wanted more than anything or he could be a spy, sent to keep an eye on Tom and therefore someone who Tom ought to destroy to send a clear message to whomever had sent him. The boy was a distraction, a bump on Tom's road which Tom was sure to overcome - there was no other option.

Tom kept straining his ears and always glanced up immediately when he heard the bell above the door chime in a way that was almost Pavlovian. He waited patiently, always made sure he never was too preoccupied.

It took Harry three days to show up again.

* * *

This time, Tom was prepared.

Tom was standing behind the counter when the bell above the door chimed and the door itself creaked open. He stared at the boy again – sized him up like he had done before, looking for things that he might have missed last time. Tom thought to himself that it was dangerous, how much he had been thinking about this boy when this boy had merely spoken two sentences to him, and he needed to know more than anything who this boy was and what he wanted.

Tom narrowed his eyes and took the chance to try to enter Harry's mind... But he found that he could not and a look of utter frustration crossed his handsome features before he managed to school his expression.

Tom was a very advanced Legilimens. He could perform Legilimency wandlessly, and without incantation – never before had he met anyone who had been capable of resisting him. This did not give him any answers at all against what he had hoped for and his fingers tightened into fists by his sides in aggravation, but he still smiled and walked up to the boy.

'Welcome to Borgin and Burkes, sir,' Tom stated and he held out his hand, 'I am afraid that we have not been properly introduced to one another. You know my name, but what is yours, sweet thing?' Tom was not experienced in the romantic field as that was the only thing he had never been interested in, but he knew how to say the right things at the right moment, so it was a surprise when the boy scoffed in disgust and did not take Tom's hand. This had never happened to Tom before. In his years as a Hogwarts student and afterwards, he had always been able to sway everyone into doing what he wanted them to.

_No one but Dumbledore had resisted his charm..._

His eyes narrowed at this thought. Had the old fool sent this boy? Was he truly that stupid? Determined to lure the boy into a sense of safety, the smile on his face never faltered. Tom's mind was already spinning with the possibilities and he was glad he had been keeping his wand near these past days.

'You don't know who I am,' the boy stated as though he had drawn that conclusion just now. His voice trembled and what _was_ that emotion in his eyes? Was it fear, or relief?

'How could I forget a precious face like yours?' Tom murmured gently, making a great effort out of rubbing the back of his neck and looking shy. The boy observed him, his bottom lip caught between his teeth but his frown never leaving his face. Indeed, the boy had a precious face. His eyes were striking and his skin was smooth, his nose was small and his lips were full and unchapped. He was aesthatically pleasing to the eye by all means but Tom would never simply fall for appearance and be fooled by it. Tom was not like his peers – he was not as shallow, and he was definitely not as naïve to think that love could actually make a difference in this world.

This boy was intrigueing, Tom had to give him that though, and Tom needed to figure him out as soon as possible so he could get rid of him already.

'I have a feeling that you are not here to shop,' Tom said and this time he studied how those little white teeth dug into that bottom lip, which was slowly starting to redden. Tom randomly wondered what the boy's pale skin looked like bathed in blood. He had to be a powerful wizard, if he could resist Tom's Legilimency... But Tom thought that the boy truly did not belong here.

Tom decided the boy was no Dark wizard.

The boy's eyes narrowed.

'My name is Harry Potter,' the boy named Harry said. 'Don't bother trying to find information on me, you won't find it. I don't exist in any documents, not here. I am here for you.'

'You are here for me and you do not exist in any documents,' Tom repeated. He paused, allowing it to sink in. So was Harry a foreigner? Sent here by that old coot to spy on Tom? Yet his British accent told Tom different...

'Are you a friend or a foe?' Tom demanded. Harry seemed to want to say something on that, but in the end he just shook his head.

'I must go, now. My time is limited and there's plenty I have to do.' That seemed pretty contradictory - how could there be anything else for Harry to do here, if he was solely here for Tom? Tom had only seen Harry around at Borgin and Burkes and Harry had not gone through any efforts of masking his presence at all, so it was safe to assume Harry hadn't tried to find out where Tom lived. It just didn't seem to add up, at all.

'But you said you were here for _me,_ ' Tom said, despising how it made him sound like a petulant child, as though Harry's presence was something he not only craved, but needed.

'Yet it is fascinating how the world will keep spinning without you, isn't it, Riddle?' Harry hatefully spat. He turned his back so easily to Tom as if he did not expect to be attacked, and Tom did not. He did not stop Harry either now that he knew more than before. Harry would come back again. He wasn't out to attack Tom any time soon.

But Tom wondered how someone, filled with so much resentment towards him, did not do so at any given chance. Was Harry waiting for the proper time, or was he here for something else?

* * *

In spite of what Harry Potter said, Tom did fruitlessly attempt to find information on him.

He wrote a letter to Horace Slughorn filled with mindless chatter (Tom hated this man and small talk, but he had gotten information out of the obese wizard before) and had carelessly dropped Harry's name, but the letter he received a day later was littered with nothing but the ramblings of an old fool ( _My dear Thomas, how have you been? How is your apprenticeship? Are you being treated kindly?)_ and no mention of Harry Potter. Any student worthy of _collecting,_ had been on Slughorn's radar. Either Harry did not shine as brightly as he could in Hogwarts, or he just genuinely didn't attend Hogwarts.

Tom thought it was the latter.

Tom had asked his people at the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry if there were any prophecies on Harry Potter, but there were none. He had asked about prophecies a long time ago, but there were none about himself either... So that could mean anything. He then had proceeded to ask his Pureblood followers about the Potter family line, but there had no Harry born into the Potter family for over 100 years. No one knew Harry Potter.

It truly was as though this Harry Potter had never existed and the more Tom learned of Harry Potter, the more Harry turned into an enigma. The last time he had been struggling with such a riddle (no pun intended), had been when he had been attempting to collect information on the ritual that would help Tom make a Horcrux.

And Harry's behavior was not giving Tom any clues either.

Growing up into the man he was today, Tom had always studied mankind. Tom knew like no other how vile our race could be, Muggle or not (though especially Muggles), he knew how filthy people could be when their minds were filled with nothing but lust and cravings. This Harry, he was here for Tom, but he must have his own goals to accomplish through it. No one ever did anything without getting any personal gain from it.

This, Tom could say in all certainty.

What Harry appeared to feel for him was a mixture of disgust, and curiosity. He knew Tom's name – did the word of what Tom was doing spread? Harry was no Dark wizard, but he was a capable Light wizard. Maybe he had been sent to keep an eye on Tom... Tom just could not figure out from where he had been sent, and if Tom should attempt to corrupt his morals and get Harry on his own side.

Indeed, if a Light wizard would convert himself to a Dark wizard without the Light side knowing, Tom would have a valuable wizard on his side who could provide him with enough information to make the Ministry fall so Tom could rebuild it again.

Tom had been obsessing so much over Harry, that he hadn't thought about his future plans in days.

Tom had yet to notice this.

'Dust off these shelves, Riddle, and keep an eye on the store. I have to go to the Malfoy residence,' Borgin ordered with a voice as oily as his hair. Tom nodded politely and as soon as Borgin walked off Tom snarled, vowing to himself that in a few years, no one would ever look down on him ever again.

Tom had to remind himself that the real reason he had an apprenticeship here, was so he could come in contact with artifacts worthy of containing his soul and now that Tom thought of it, he should hurry with that so he could leave this place. He'd have to find special artifacts no one would even dream of harming... Artifacts as valuable as Tom's soul, to the Wizarding Community.

Tom waved his wand and watched as the duster started dancing on the shelves while he made a broom sweep the floors with immaculate care, never knocking anything over or even putting a scratch on a single thing. Borgin had forbidden him to use magic for that, stating that his last apprentices still had debts to pay off for the things they broke, but even Borgin had to recognize that Tom knew better than that. Tom was no klutz.

Harry however, was.

A loud curse and clatter reached Tom's ears and he turned around and watched as Harry Potter coughed, his raven hair matted with dust and his arms struggling to push his body up. A heavy umbrella holder had toppled over him and the broom was now calmly sweeping on the other side of the store.

Tom pursed his lips together in amusement as Harry cursed, his eyebrows drawn together in an angry scowl. He walked over to Harry's side and waved his wand at the umbrella holder, which clawed feet slowly started moving, until it was positioned at its original place.

Harry Potter _growled_ at Tom, when Tom held out his hand.

'Don't even bother, asshole,' Harry huffed. Tom's eyebrows rose but he took Harry's hand anyway, and... And the strangest thing happened. Tom randomly felt an odd pull from the inner depths of his being, a sense of _mine_ _,_ _part of me_ _,_ as soon as their skin connected, and when Harry pulled his hand out of Tom's grip with an angry mutter, Tom stared at his own hand and could not even bother to feel insulted.

He stared at his own hand like it was stranger than any of the artifacts they were surrounded with.

_What was that?_

'Who _are_ you? Why are you here?' Tom demanded and Harry pushed himself up and ran a hand through his hair, revealing a little lightning bolt shaped scar just a split second before his bangs fell down his forehead again. It was oddly shaped for a scar and in a way that fascinated Tom beyond measure - it was a scar induced by magic, a type of scar that Tom had never seen before. Before Tom could pay more attention to it, Harry pulled out his own wand and a quick 'S _courgify'_ made the dust on his body and clothes disappear, melt away like snow before the sun. He was wearing the same clothes as the other times he had come to see Tom.

'I do not owe you a kindness,' Harry stated and Tom's eyebrows knitted together.

'I did not ask you for a kindness, I asked you for a clarification. I want to know what that just was.' It was something that had never been described in any of the books Tom held so dear - it was a feeling induced without any use of magic, just a physical response... Something which Tom was not familiar with.

'What _what_ was, Riddle?' Harry parroted impatiently. Tom took his hand once more and he could feel it again, that rich feeling, that feeling of being completed. He needed more of this. He hadn't felt like this since... Since he before he had made his first Horcrux. The Horcrux had been taking its toll on Tom's physical and emotional state, Tom already knew this. But when he touched Harry for some reason in some way it felt like the piece he had given up came back to him.

Harry pulled back as if burnt, his green eyes wide. Did Harry know? Tom had been willing to play this little game Harry was playing with him just fine, but he wasn't going to let Harry go without a proper explanation now.

No matter what he had to do to get it out of him.

'Why are you really here, Harry?'

'I did not know we reached first name base,' Harry murmured resentfully. Tom wanted to touch Harry again. He wanted to study that feeling – and...

Tom paused.

He wanted to know what it felt like when their entire bodies were pressed together.

'Why are you looking at me like that, Riddle?' Tom licked his lips and Harry blinked furiously, a flush rising on his cheeks. Ah... So Potter found him attractive. Tom remembered the way Harry had looked at him, the first time he had come into the store. There had been that underlying anger, but... There had been that hint of lust too and whilst Tom would never just fall for a pretty face, he knew how to appreciate beauty.

He smirked.

Maybe if Tom couldn't charm the information out of Potter, he could fuck it out of him instead. That certainly would build a bond Harry might not want to break. A lot of Tom's followers were infatuated with him... And in their desperation to own Tom's heart, they'd never leave or betray him.

Give them a little, and receive triple the amount back... He always had to invest in his valuable followers. The weaker ones would came afterwards. Like a flock of birds, they'd always follow the one up front - bring down a king, and his kingdom would be at your feet.

If Tom could convert one Light wizard, more would surely follow.

'You never answered my question, so let me repeat,' Tom murmured in a low tone, and Harry's green eyes darted back and forth as the blinds shut, the door locked and the _open_ sign turned to _closed._ What allured Tom most was that Harry didn't seem frightened – he seemed pissed off, and that just made everything so much more fun. Harry was fearless and for that, he deserved a spot in Tom's higher ranks.

Harry was most likely a Gryffindor.

'Friend...' Harry gasped as Tom stepped closer to him. Tom's fingers brushed over the side of his face and there it was again, that strange, addictive feeling. '...or foe?'

'Fuck off, Riddle,' Harry said but his voice trembled again in that curious way that made Tom take in Harry's expression. His eyes had fallen half-lidded, the corner of his mouth twitching again like unspoken words lingered on Harry's lips. He'd have to learn to keep that wicked tongue of his in check but that would come in all due time.

Tom wondered - if a mere brush of fingertips could make him feel like this already - what a kiss could do.

Tom's hand dropped from Harry's face and he licked his lips again. The expression he wore on his face could be described as nothing but sheer hunger – and yes, he did hunger for Harry now but above all he hungered for the knowledge Harry was selfishly keeping to himself. He wanted to understand who this boy was, where he came from and what he was doing to Tom. It was not love that Tom felt, not in the slightest bit, but he _wanted_ this boy closer.

And just as Tom leaned in closer, Harry Potter closed his eyes tightly.

When their lips were about to touch, Harry Potter disappeared with a loud _pop_ and Tom blinked, aggravated, and somehow so curiously amused.

Harry Potter had just apparated away from Tom Riddle. Fearless as he was for the threat of violence, he could not say the same about a mere kiss.

* * *

After this, Harry Potter did not show up for a long time.

Tom waited a week and then he waited another week and another handful of days, but green eyed Harry Potter did not show up and grace Tom with his peculiar presence anymore.

Above impatient, pissed off and confused, Tom had this annoying urge to see Harry.

It had not happened before, that a person Tom wanted on his side held such a hold over him and Tom decided that that was solely because Tom could not stand not knowing everything. The people he had in his ranks currently had not all been easy to persuade, Tom would admit that, but at least he had been able to do his homework on them. With Harry... There was nothing.

As he laid in bed and stared at his fingertips he remembered that feeling again, that odd new feeling. In all his years of tormenting and even _killing_ peoplehe had never felt good because of another person's touch but he was certain that physical, sexual pleasure was not supposed to feel like that. He was also certain that it had nothing to do with love, because Tom did not believe in love and he had never loved anyone either and probably never would... Tom closed his eyes and traced his lips. He had almost kissed Harry but honestly, Tom didn't just want to have Harry as a Death Eater.

And he wanted to do more to Harry than just kiss him.

Merlin, he wanted to grab Harry, he wanted to shove him face down in the sheets and pull his hair and make him beg. He wanted that rude mouth to whine and whimper, he wanted Harry who was so hateful towards him to desire him. Tom wanted this mysterious boy to tell him all his secrets.

Tom wanted to own him.

As Tom let his hands wander down his body, he unzipped his zipper and pushed down his trousers to take his cock firmly in hand, and wondered what information Harry was hiding from him. His thumb dug into the tip of his cock, precome already leaking and making his movements slicker. He did not touch himself like this often, normally not enjoying how sensitive he was there.

Tom groaned as his eyes slid closed. Harry was there, in his fantasy, submissive and on his knees with his mouth on Tom's cock like a filthy slut. Tom would've made Harry beg to suck his cock first, of course – he wouldn't just give it to him that easily.

And why shouldn't he own Harry?

Tom shuddered and moaned as he let the physical pleasure run through him, his strokes slow and drawn out, the complete opposite of how he wanted to fuck Harry.

* * *

One of the few thing Tom had managed to figure out about Harry, was that he has a rather dramatic eye for timing.

Tom had been preparing to send his Death Eaters out to find Harry and just as he had been getting ready to give them the go sign after work, Harry Potter showed up again.

'I need to talk to you,' Harry's voice stated before the bell had the chance to chime. He barged in, slammed the door shut and waved his wand to make the store close up itself like Tom had done before. The sudden transition between silence to the loudness that was Harry left Tom amused, and his eyebrow cocked up while the store turned darker than it had been before. Slivers of sunlight crept through the cracks of the dark, ratty blinds, and the _click_ of the door locking itself was barely audible. Tom had half the mind to be curious about what Harry would have done, had Borgin not been out to see miss Smith.

Harry looked like a ruffled cat and Tom's eloquent fingers reached for his wand, though he kept it out of Harry's sight. Harry did not appear to have noticed the movement as he was too busy with what he was trying to say – Tom could just see Harry's lips struggle to formulate words. Harry was not scowling this time however and in fact, he appeared to be in a rush. 'I have to go back to where I came from – things have happened, but I needed to talk to you first. After this you won't see me anymore for a long time.'

This was not what Tom had expected. He did not see why Harry would feel the need to come see him again if he was to leave for good, but it wasn't like he would let Harry go again anyway. He stared at Harry – at the determined look in his face, his clothes which were in a disarray, the dirt on his cheek. He always wore the same clothing, but they never looked dirty or smelt different...

'What is it you desire of me and why are you here in the first place?' Tom asked suspiciously. Harry looked like he had just come from a battlefield... Yet he was here. Had he apparated? Had he fled?

Harry closed his eyes for a brief second and then he laughed incredulously. 'I can't believe I am standing in front of you like this, when just seconds earlier...' Harry shook his head to himself and bit his lip, in a way that made him appear restless. 'Never mind. It hasn't happened yet, in some strange way.'

Tom did not speak, instead he licked his lips and carefully watched Harry, like a predator almost, ready to pounce and fight when provoked. The only reason why he was keeping himself in control was because he had not figured Harry out yet.

But he would, today. No matter what it took – no matter how much pain he would have to induce on Harry's small body. He'd Crucio the information out of him if he needed to but for now he'd stick to his current approach.

Harry wouldn't get away again.

'Could you put down your wand, please?' Harry looked very much like a ruffled cat and a part of Tom felt smug satisfaction at this – obviously, the almost-kiss was very much on Harry's mind... But he couldn't have possibly noticed Tom grabbing his wand. Tom's grip tightened, but he did not give in. 'We've raised our wands to each other enough just now.'

'What on earth are you talking about?' Tom asked with genuine interest. Tom never forgot or forgave an enemy, and he most definitely would not forget someone like Harry, one who spoke of power and intelligence far past his age and above that, they had not fought, not once. 'You just walked in – how can you possibly even imply I fought you?'

_Or that you'd get away with just a mere smear of dirt on your face?_

Harry released a long breath and ran a hand through his hair and Tom thought to himself that Harry must've prepared himself for this conversation. Was that why he had stayed away for this long? Because he hadn't known what the best approach was? He didn't look so composed now and Tom figured that he had just decided to rush into it... Harry Potter definitely was a Gryffindor, to taunt Tom like this when he was aware of who Tom was.

'I suppose that's true, however, my past is your future,' Harry stated and he didn't even give Tom time to blink or comment on that. Words kept falling from his mouth, like he was in a hurry. 'Look, I don't have the time to play games anymore. I don't know what is happening but there's a war going on right now, something I did changed our paths – I went back home and my parents were there, and people who should be dead were _alive -'_

'What on earth are you rambling about, you fool?' Tom hissed. He was patient when it came to working on something, but he did not have the time to listen to the ramblings of an idiot. There was no war going on – Tom would know of it.

Harry's green eyes met his and Tom paused, his wand now firmly pointing at Harry. Harry didn't even seem fazed... Why?

'I don't have the time for – fucking hell, shit,' Harry cursed, pacing back and forth, fisting his hair. There was a crack in the left lens of Harry's glasses, and then he started rambling again, 'Riddle, I know about the Horcruxes, I know about how you want to become _Lord Voldemort,_ I know about Myrtle and the Chamber of Secrets.' For once in his life, Tom was honestly taken aback. Before Tom could open his mouth to comment on this, Harry said, 'Never thought I could say this, but – I'm from the future.'

Future.

Tom was taken aback. Harry was a mere schoolboy from the future – yet he knew Tom's secrets? His plans, his desires, his _future_? Feeling his lips press into a thin line, Tom's grip on his wand tightened as he aimed it straight at Harry's head. There was a war going on right now, on this date, at this time. Harry had just come from the battlefield to travel back in time to talk to Tom. He probably had, multiple times. Harry had probably hopped back and forth between his time and Tom's, to see what his acts could change however small they were...

_What role did Tom play in this war?_

'That's impossible,' Tom stated, bluffing. He knew time travel was very much possible – magic was not endless but its boundaries were slim and its power was beyond belief. He's heard of time turners before but another question hit him – how _did_ Harry become to own and use a time turner? He studied Harry carefully, remembering how he could see a little bit of himself in Harry, in his eyes specifically.

And still, Tom did not know if Harry was a friend of foe.

'You haven't made your second Horcrux yet, have you?' Harry asked, 'So it's not too late – I know what you did to make a Horcrux but Tom, if you feel genuine remorse -'

'Remorse? Remorse?!' Tom bristled. The ' _Crucio'_ just barely passed his lips before Harry cast it away with a ' _Protego!'_ and Harry stared at him, looking somehow almost sad. 'How can one possibly regret greatness?! I will become history! I will become-'

'Old, ugly, and above all – hated by the entire Wizarding Community,' Harry finished for him and Tom's eyes were wild as he stared at Harry. No, no, Harry was wrong. No one could hate anyone as great as Tom, as great as Lord Voldemort – they'd learn to bow down to him and accept his views with open arms, they just needed to _learn..._

In a way it was almost bewildering, how all of this seemed to hit Tom in one go. He had meant to figure Harry out by himself, slowly, bit by bit - not to be overwhelmed by the facts and to be confronted with his future. Harry had probably not intended on this either, maybe he had planned on killing Tom slowly, luring him into a false sense of safety...

'Who the hell do you think you are?' Tom hissed. Tom's teeth started to show through his snarl and he stepped forward, ignoring the widen of Harry's eyes, or the way Harry stepped forward too.

'I am Harry Potter, I am the _Boy-Who-Lived,_ I am the only wizard in history who survived the Killing curse twice,' Harry said, not a single bit of fear in his expression. 'Tom, I did not come to -'

'And who cast those two spells, Harry?' Tom hissed through his teeth in a chilling demand. Play time was over. Tom had no choice to believe Harry for what he had said had been nothing but the truth, but the future could be altered, of this Tom was certain. That was why Harry was here, that was why Harry was seeing him. Tom played an important role in the future war, and Harry was trying to prevent it from happening.

He would kill Harry after this. He would see if there were any faults in his brilliant plans. Tom aimed for nothing but perfection.

'Lord Voldemort does, in a future far away,' Harry whispered. His eyes were full of wonder and curiosity, but not fear. Harry Potter did not fear Tom Riddle and Tom did not blame him any longer. How could someone survive the Killing curse twice? Was his older self truly that inadequate? Tom stared at Harry, at the determined look on his face.

No, this must be a trick of the mind.

'Why didn't you try to kill me instead? Why did you keep coming here?' Tom demanded. Harry paused, regarding Tom for a bit.

'The killing was always your thing. I've been watching you to see if it was true. To see if you can still be saved.'

'I don't need saving from anything, nor anyone,' Tom stated as his temper began to flare again. They were so close now – close enough for Harry's breathing to drift over Tom's skin, like a gentle caress. It was contrasting the sharpness of Harry's words dramatically.

'Not even from yourself?' Harry asked. Tom had never felt this unraveled before – this _open,_ because his entire life had always been a secret to the world. He had never shared anything with anyone, never gave bits and pieces of himself like the way regular people did when they became friends with someone, he never even had anyone in his life that could be considered a companion. No one was supposed to know anything of Tom Riddle for Tom Riddle would fade, he would become nothing but a shadow of the man Lord Voldemort will be.

Tom Riddle was the boy behind the man that would change the world. An endless work in progress.

Tom took Harry in consideration, staring him down. No, killing Harry would not do... Harry had more information Tom needed to obtain... Infomation about the future, information about _Voldemort._

All the while, the main question that went through his head was, did the Horcruxes really do that much damage to a person? What if Tom was wrong – what if Lord Voldemort would become a shadow of who Tom Riddle was instead as a result of his soul being cut into pieces? Feeling outraged by his thoughts and Harry's earlier words, Tom slapped Harry before he could even get a grip on what that statement did to him. As Harry's wide, blaming eyes bore into his Tom's hand tingled from the remembrance of Harry's touch. There was more Harry was not telling him.

 _If I can't charm my way into getting information out of him, I'll fuck it out of him instead_ _,_ Tom remembered that thought quite clearly. It was preposterous, but then, Tom just reached forward and grabbed Harry's face and kissed him. Harry moaned, his hands gripping his shirt, but to Tom's surprise he pulled him even closer and bit his lip painfully hard in a way that made it bleed.

Fine. If that was the game Harry wanted to play, Tom would oblige.

Tom turned Harry around and he pushed the small of Harry's back against the counter like he had fantasized about, only this Harry growled against his mouth as Tom lifted him up and forced Harry to wrap his legs around his waist. Somehow this made it even better - Tom actually thought, on second thought, that a submissive bed partner would be dreadfully boring.

He did not realize that Harry had gotten away just in time and that his mind was hazy with the adrenaline and the need to save everyone's lives. Harry was in a fragile state of mind right now.

'So you're supposed to save me, you little shit?' Tom hissed and Harry growled at him like an animal. This was not love or even about attraction or lust anymore – Tom needed to _dominate_ Harry, and Harry would let him. Tom would make him.

He could tame this lion.

'If you wouldn't make such dumb choices in life, I wouldn't have to be here,' Harry replied. Dumb. That was a word that had never been associated with Tom before... But how else could Harry know about the Horcruxes? How could he say these things?

Never had Tom been this humiliated before, and never had he felt this way physically before. He has had his sexual cravings, every teenage boy had them, but he had grown out of them. He had been more preoccupied with achieving his goals... But touching Harry felt good, and as he pulled Harry's shirt over his head and bit him hard on the neck, he felt even Harry had not expected this to happen.

But it was happening, and that was all it mattered.

The Boy-Who-Lived, undoubtedly a titel the Daily Prophet had come up with, had come here to save Tom – he saw Tom as a seperate being, from Voldemort.

'Do you let all men do this to you?' Tom mumbled in a rough voice, admiring the mark on Harry's pale neck. Harry's fingers dug into Tom's scalp as he pulled his hair and Harry huffed. 'You know what, Harry, I think you didn't even come here for a talk. I think you came here because you just wanted to get fucked like the little needy bitch you are.'

Saying words so vile, so dirty, made Tom feel better about himself. Harry may see him as an ugly, bitter man in the future but Tom could prove to him and the world right now that he was the complete opposite. It was said that greatness could only be achieved by failure, but Tom didn't see it that way. He had been born to succeed.

Failure never had been an option to Tom.

'Fuck you,' Harry snapped but before Tom could reply he kissed Tom roughly. Tom was hard, and their clothed cocks grinded together in a way that was too much yet not enough, never enough. Tom's head was spinning from what Harry's touch did to him and he took his shirt off, needing Harry closer, needing it now.

Regardless of what had happened in the past or the future, there was no turning back now.

Harry's nails ran over Tom's back and they both moaned. 'You asshole, you always think you know it so well but you're nothing but a prejudiced dumb -'

'Don't call me dumb,' Tom demanded as he pulled Harry's hair in a way that must sting, his hands making quick work of unbuttoning Harry's slacks and tugging down the zipper. Harry gasped as cold air hit his cock and the look in Tom's eyes was nothing but hungry and dangerous.

'Then what, Tom? How else can I call someone who used to be so beautiful and had so much going on for him but ruined everything out of greed for power and -'

'You know nothing of me, of that I can assure you.' Tom's eyes flashed red and the sight made the words coming from Harry's eager mouth stutter and turn into nothing but short gasps. The nerve of Harry Potter to just come into his life and expect to be capable of changing it... From the future or not, he needed to be put in his rightful place. Tom grabbed Harry's arm, turned him around, shoved his face into the counter and pulled Harry's pants down until they pooled around his ankles.

He slapped his ass and Harry yelped.

That's more like it.

'I know _everything_ about-' Tom spanked Harry again and Harry cut himself off with a groan, and Tom's cock twitched at the sound of it. He was in control now and that was the way Tom needed it to be.

'No. _Nothing._ ' Because the thought that anyone could know something Tom didn't, was ridiculous. He smacked Harry's ass just a few more times, just for good measure, and he found that that pale skin did look best when it's reddened and sore.

Tom pulled out his cock and stroked it a few times, watching as Harry craned his neck to glance back at him. His pupils were dilated – a tight ring of green was stretched over the inky darkness of them. Tom smirked and Harry shivered. Yes, Harry wanted it bad. He could just see it in the way Harry licked his lips like that, in the way Harry's cock twitched in desperate need to be touched, the way his hole clenched on air. He needed to be filled.

Harry needed to be fucked.

'Beg for it,' Tom said, his spidery fingers trailing over Harry's spine just enough to make him shiver. Harry glared in a way that made him look almost animalistic, feral. Tom supposed that mister Potter, _Boy-Who-Lived,_ felt like he was above begging. No matter. Tom would get him there.

Tom leaned over Harry's body, his cock brushing over Harry's hole, and he offered his fingers against Harry's quivering lips. Harry opened his mouth without even thinking about it and allowed Tom to trace his straight teeth, that wicked tongue. Harry moaned as though the act was physically pleasing him. Maybe it was. Maybe he was into that. Tom would have to discover later on just how far Harry's oral fixation went.

Tom pulled his fingers out of Harry's mouth with a wet pop and scoffed as he looked at his fingers. They were dripping with saliva, and his tongue clicked on the roof of his mouth when Harry released a soft, impatient noise.

'All you need to do is ask,' he reminded Harry, but Harry did not ask, thus Tom's fingertips brushed against his hole, circling it, before he slowly slid his index finger inside of Harry. Harry's body willingly took it and Harry moaned again as Tom steadily started fucking his ass with just a finger.

'You like this,' Tom mused, never having done this before and partially amazed by how utterly tight and hot it was, 'you filthy thing, you love getting fucked, don't you?'

If Harry had any reply to that, then he sure as hell didn't say it out loud. Not when Tom added a second finger, not when Tom added a third, not when Tom started fucking his fingers in and out of Harry so hard that there's a lewd squelching noise every time it re-enters him.

And Harry's backing up on his fingers, too.

'Yes, there you go. Fuck yourself on my fingers,' Tom mumbled.

'You need- fuck, put it in, put it in, put it in,' Harry babbled dumbly and Tom paused, sick pleasure running through his body. He watched in fascination as Harry's hole clenched around his fingers, feeling the tight heat.

'Just say the word,' Tom stated. He would not do anything for Harry until Harry would admit defeat – until he would submit to Tom.

'Fuck you-' Tom slapped Harry's ass hard and Harry choked out, 'fine, fine, please just fuck my ass!'

Tom didn't need any other words of encouragement than that. He spread Harry's cheeks, admired how pink Harry's quivering hole was, and then he shoved in with one deep, punishing thrust.

And the noises Harry made were loud and above all, _sexy._ Tom didn't even care that Harry was probably experiencing mild discomfort – his thrusts were anything but gentle, and his cock stretched Harry rather wide – the pleasure was overwhelming, and far better than his own hand.

Tom closed his eyes and forgot for just a few minutes that Harry was an annoying, rude brat who thought he knew it all, and instead focused on the long stretch of Harry's back, his small hands clinging onto the counter he was being fucked into, the redness on his ass from where Tom spanked him. He focused on the fact that Harry made him feel good and complete, and his hands dug into the tender flesh on Harry's hips as he started pounding ruthlessly into Harry.

'Ah- I'm – Tom, _Tom,'_ Harry whined urgently as though anything he would say could possibly make Tom diverge his attention from the heat that was Harry's body, and the tightness that was surrounding his cock. He leaned down and bit Harry in the neck to muffle his own sounds of pleasure, his hips smacking into Harry's sore bum over and over again.

'Shut up,' Tom demanded. If Borgin would walk in right now, he would see Tom fucking this boy right into his counter, which he always spent so much time on cleaning. This thought only spurred Tom on further.

'You're going to take it, because you want it,' Tom paused, licked a long stripe over Harry's pulse, and then bit down onto his earlobe, 'you are going to take it because you're a filthy boy and you love it.'

Harry would be bruised and would wear these marks for days, lest he healed himself, and at least that was a beginning of Tom's claim over him.

'I'm gonna come,' Harry stuttered and Tom bit down in his shoulder again, breathing harshly through his nose. Yes, he knew that feeling. He was very close to the edge himself and his hand started spanking Harry again, almost on its own accord, feeling the harsh impact of his skin meeting Harry's with a stinging sensation. Harry's nails dug into the counter and Tom needn't be told that Harry was coming. He could see it in the way Harry's body twitched violently and twisted beneath his own, and as Harry's hole clenched around Tom, it was enough to tip him over the edge.

* * *

Somewhere in a future far from that moment, things shifted.

Tom had never learned to love and he never would – sex would not change Tom's mind on anything, but it had made it clearer.

Indeed, Harry would never be seen by his peers again. Tom kept him near, always, not as a prisoner but as a voice of reason. Tom discovered that Harry Potter was his Horcrux and he always ensured Harry's safety.

Harry could never love the man who had killed his parents in another life, however, he did end up falling for the boy behind the man. What they had was not worthy of being called a relationship – it was a mutual agreement at most.

Harry Potter achieved his goals, and so did Tom Riddle.

It was debatable whether or not this was actually a better fate for the Wizarding Community.


End file.
